Barossa Valley, I love you.

Everything seems easier here. The light is softer and warmer, and everyone goes about their daily activities with seemingly little effort, but with a hidden efficiency. The pace of life is slower. Sure, there are tourists like us everywhere, but no-one is in a hurry. Businesses are definitely set up to sell, but they seem to do it in such an easy going way. Softly professional.

 

It’s a joy to drive through such lovely countryside, taking in hills covered in grapevines and olive trees. There’s something about vineyards and olive farms that both Jon and I find attractive, and no, it’s not just because we enjoy their produce. It might be the symmetry of the rows, the colours, or the way they seem to stretch on forever, or maybe it’s the promise they hold. Ah, yes, perhaps it is because we enjoy olives and wine after all.

 And we love our resort hotel here. Our balcony overlooks the hills, as does the restaurant. Having breakfast near an open fire looking out over the countryside covered in vineyards is a perfect way to start each day, the only problem being that we don’t want to get up and leave.

We’d been so looking forward to going to Maggie Beer’s farm shop and it didn’t disappoint. I loved stepping inside to another room warmed by an open fire, and with all the products out for tasting, it was a wakeup for the senses. I’d been joking that we were off to see Maggie and Jon actually did. He spied her for about 3 seconds as she walked down a corridor and disappeared into a ‘Staff Only’ room. I sauntered down that way just in case, but all I heard was her voice, unmistakably rich and deep, saying “I just don’t seem to have enough time.” (I know how you feel, Maggie.)  I think I tasted nearly everything in the shop, particularly loving her dukkah blend and her fig pino cotto.

 

The food during our stay here has been an ongoing delight - with special mention going to Jacob’s Restaurant at Jacob’s Creek Winery. The 1^st course grazing plate looked and tasted delicious, but when our 2^nd courses arrived, we were stunned. My salsa verde chicken was the best chicken dish I have ever had. Not exaggerating.

We had lunch another day at the Grant Burge Winery – simpler fare, but still very tasty, especially when washed down with samples of wine we later bought.

 
Perhaps that’s why life is easier here. Good food, good wine, happy people, beautiful scenery – What’s not to love?

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Oh, it’s so quiet at night. Just like home. Perfect for sleeping. No sounds of drunks yelling and swearing and fighting just outside and below our room, as we had in Adelaide.  People here walk around with a soft smile and a warm glow about them. It’s obvious that we have a better class of drunks!

It was the gin that saved me

Yes, Kangaroo Island definitely is a beautiful place with a stunning coastline and an abundance of wildlife, and yes, it offers many different places in which to relax, to be pampered, to dine, to try fresh local produce, of which all residents seem justifiably proud and it is most certainly a place where the residents and tourist operators are friendly and helpful, and if you’re sensing a ‘but’ here, there’s definitely one coming.

But if it hadn’t been for a quaint little boutique distillery called Kangaroo Island Spirits, it just wouldn’t have been as much fun.

But more on that later.....

Would it be as attractive if it weren’t an island? What is it about islands that capture our romantic spirits? And would it be more attractive if I hadn’t had to suffer terrible sea sickness to get here? 

The weather at this time of year is so unpredictable. We wake up to blue skies that change in an instant to masses of charcoal clouds looming overhead. The winds whip up and the rains come – sometimes gone just as quickly, sometimes lingering. It’s difficult to plan outdoor activities, and plan them we must, as it’s so far to drive from one location to another. Nothing is really close. We were aware of the distances on the island before we came, but weren’t fully aware that when we got here, we somehow thought we’d be having a break from driving so much.

And so, on a day of wild, windy weather that precluded our planned excursion to Seal Bay, a day where dark and threatening skies sent down rain as soon as we thought it might be safe to walk up a hill in search of a particular lighthouse, on this day, we pulled into Kangaroo Island Spirits, up a dirt driveway of what looked to be an old shack and entered a room that smelled of chocolate and coffee and herbs and honey and gin, and sighed.  Rescued.

Someone to watch over me

Jon and I have been discussing why old lighthouses are so appealing. ( I’m not sure if this is the same for everyone, but when I see the symbol for a lighthouse on the map, I have to trek out there and take a look.)

 

Perhaps it’s the location, as their very purpose demands their setting be wild and rugged and we are all called to areas of such spectacular beauty.

Perhaps it’s the construction of the building itself - a simple, elegant design in solid stone, built to withstand the roughest of weathers.

And that is another reason. They have stood there for such a long time - steady, sturdy, preventing disasters and protecting lives. We are aware of how much good they’ve done and it’s almost as if we are paying our respects to that and to the people who have manned them. Their function has changed but their history is ever present.

Lots of stone walls built around all the dwellings

I love looking around the settlements near the lighthouses, imagining the lives of the small community of people who made these areas home. Now, there are lighthouse keepers with very different job descriptions, as well as volunteer tour guides and lodge owners renting out boutique accommodation and cafe owners giving visitors a comfortable place to relax with a hot drink after walking around the cliff tops.

It’s the cliff tops and the rocks and the waves pounding against them that mesmerise me too.  I love the continual movement of the ocean.  Jon thinks that we might be called to the sea because of our inherited genetic memory, but I like to think it’s more of an ancestral longing and recognition of our sea faring past. We both agree that it’s also the contrast between land and sea, between solid and liquid, between earthy colours and so many brilliant shades of blue. 

Huge wind farm along this stretch of coast - Power of the turbines seems to match the power of the landscape and weather. Love the juxtaposition of the old and the new.

Whatever the reason, I am loving this chance to travel along such beautiful stretches of coast, stop when I feel like it and share the experience, as well as my thoughts, with my wonderful husband.

Was that really me?

As we drive (rather sedately we feel) along this magnificent and historic stretch of road that is The Great Ocean Road, I look ahead, but mostly back in wonder, to think that once upon a time, in another lifetime, I actually cycled this same route.

I know that it was 30 years ago, but I must have felt incredibly optimistic or been super naive. Some of the hills and narrow sections are frightening. But that is my current self talking.

I see groups of cyclists, decked out in VERY serious cycling gear, rather different from our little group, and I either overtake them oh so steadily or wave and smile at them madly. Perhaps I am waving at my younger self.

I find myself getting lost as we drive along, thinking of that group of five. I don't remember specific places but I welcome a certain familiarity in many of them. I think I have clearer memories of the photos. I do remember a lot of laughing as well as singing out our favourite saying, "There's no shame in stopping" and the obligatory "There's no such thing as a bad red wine" as we settled into our camping ground for the night.

Yes. Me. Cycling AND camping.

I have witnesses.

These aren't as serious as some I've seen, but seeing them at this lookout made me think I may have a similar photo at home.

LOVE the blue and the rocks

The Great Ocean Road

Looking out to the pier at Lorne

What a wonderful start we had to this section of the trip - grey skies came and went, but blue won through!

Judas??

Loch Ard Gorge 

reflection in the water at Lorne...just outside our apartment

Bells Beach - special shot just for Neil

Loch Ard Gorge

Only 7 apostles left they say, but who knows what is forming under the sea?

The Arch...aptly named

Split Point lighthouse

Playing with colour

Ladies of Lorne

Eagle Rock (I did try not to sing)

hhhmmmmMelbourne

Melbourne, hmmmm, can’t fully make up my mind about it. I like it, but don’t love it. I’ve enjoyed our time here, but I wouldn’t rush to come back. 

The main reason I’ve enjoyed it so much is, I think, because it’s the start of our little road trip and we are staying in a 5 star hotel that I adore. 

Melbourne certainly is a foodie’s paradise, but there’s more to life than food. (Well, at my age, I need there to be!) I wish I could stroll through every interesting laneway and have a coffee stop at every second cafe or enter every restaurant whose menu I’ve read and salivated over, but I’m just not up to the amount of exercise I’d need to work all that off. It’s also a great place to shop, but, and my friends at www.birdsnest.com.au  may not understand how I can say this,  I just don’t feel like going into too many shops this week. (Maybe when I lose all these kilos through the KILOMETRES of walking I’m doing!) I want something more from a new city.

It has sports, the arts, gardens galore etc, but it’s just not grabbing me like so many other cities have. I do love the pockets that remind me of European cities, but it never seems to quite settle into one type of place.

If you lived here, you would, of course see another side of Melbourne, carving out your life among people and places and pastimes that were tailor made for you. The same may well apply to it as a place to visit. If you were to come here for, say, a sporting event such as the Australian Open or a Test Match or the Melbourne Cup, you would have a ball. So much to enjoy during the day and then a different restaurant or club every night. Perfect.

If you think that all sounds too negative, it’s not meant to be. We have enjoyed the routine of not having a routine, the exploration of a new place, setting out each day wondering what we’ll find and learning the ways of the city in the process. We’ve been happy little tourists and have found much to like about Victoria’s capital, including the people of course, who seem settled and happy.  (even the ones in suits having morning coffee meetings while we’re still lingering over brekky)

The Importance of Corned Beef

Some people just don’t get it. I must admit that I haven’t always been a devotee, but now, I’m hooked. 

The importance of the freshly made corned beef, pickles and lettuce sandwich cannot be underestimated. It signals a day of road travel where the breaks are not dictated by the location of the next Maccas, the one that you wish 30 mins later you’d never seen. The corned beef sandwich is made for a day when you stop the car only when you feel like a break. You stretch your legs a bit, open a thermos of tea and perch on the bonnet, munching on your sandwich as you look out at the horizon and sigh.

I wonder if this new found appreciation is a function of age. Who cares? I just know that Monday will be a good travel day, not just because it’s Day 1, but because Jon is cooking corned beef tonight, ready to make our sandwiches.

It’s that simple.

Corned beef with Shakespeare at Stratford on the Avon River